Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2)

by Collette Cameron

  Millie’s eyes sparkled. “That shall be just the thing. Good thinking, Lady Gen.”

  The outing was introduced and at first Anne tried to cry off. But once she saw that Millie’s heart was set on it, Anne relented and agreed to go and change.

  The twins opted to stay behind and at the last minute, Lady Gen feigned a headache. So Millie, Anne, and Ian set out together.

  The conversation in the carriage ride was rather stilted. Millie wondered if perhaps this had been a terrible idea after all. However, quite unknowingly she stumbled upon one of Anne’s favorite topics, and from then on, they spoke animatedly about which gown Anne would be wearing to the Christmas Eve ball.

  “I truly wish that I could go,” Millie said wistfully. “I love dancing.”

  Ian gave her a look. “I wasn’t aware that you had taken dancing lessons.”

  Millie answered, “At boarding school. I more often than not had to play the boy part. But it was still most fun. Do you like dancing, Anne?”

  Anne grinned at Millie. “Indeed, it’s almost like you are flying. I love the magic of a ball.”

  Millie cocked her head to the side. “I thought you didn’t like being in society.”

  Anne glanced from Millie to her father and then back again. “There were plenty of things that I didn’t care for. Balls, however, weren’t one of them. I should love to dance every day of my life if I could. Granted, it’s not quite as fun on my own. But I shouldn’t let that stop me.”

  Ian was struck with the strongest impression to tell her that he would dance with her every day if she would let him. He had been a fool to snap at her the previous day. What did he really know about her failed seasons? The truth was that Anne had been right. Ian hadn’t wanted to forgive himself. He still didn’t. For some reason, he had in his head that if he had to be punished.

  “I would imagine that you are a lovely dancer,” Millie said happily.

  Anne blushed. “I suppose I am tolerable. I haven’t had any complaints thus far.”

  Ian felt a sting of jealousy. He wanted to know what it was like to dance with Anne. He wanted to know so many more things about her. Suddenly it seemed that the time they had left was running out.

  Jumping into the conversation they spoke of favorite books, plays they wished to see, and even family members that amused them. Anne knew Ian’s older brother the Duke of Bilkshore from her time in London.

  Ian entertained Millie and Anne on stories from his childhood growing up with so many brothers. They each picked a new book at the lending library and soon they were on their way back to Lady Gen’s home. Millie had snuggled up against her father’s waistcoat and fallen asleep.

  “Sometimes when I look at her like this, I forget that she’s on the cusp of becoming a woman. I just want to keep her like this forever,” Ian said wistfully.

  Anne smiled at him, a true smile that had his heart singing.

  “I am sorry for what I said yesterday,” Ian blurted out. “I had no right to comment on your relationship with your father.”

  Anne looked taken aback. “Thank you for that. But I fear there is some truthfulness to what you said to me. I think that’s why it stung so much. I am sorry for being such a sad sack and moping about it. We had just vowed to be friends and then I went and turned on you. Not particularly friendly, was I?”

  “You’re perfect,” Ian said huskily.

  Anne blinked up at him. “I am?”

  “So very much so,” he whispered and then gently placed his lips against her forehead. “Friends again?”

  Anne felt a pang of disappointment at his insistence they be friends, but then she quickly squashed it away. Pasting on a grin she said, “The very best of friends.”

  It wasn’t to be spoken aloud that her body insisted that sometimes friends kissed each other, and on the lips no less. It was far too brash and forward of her. But once the image was in her mind, nothing could take it away again.

  Anne was completely awash with conflicting emotions, as she had never in her lifetime had such an incredible afternoon. That night when sleep finally took her, dreams of the most illicit nature descended upon her.

  Ian haunted her dreams. His laughing eyes, his soft lips, his muscular things. The way he held her and kissed her had her body, weak with desire.

  By the time Anne woke, she was cranky and hot. A sticky wetness resided between her thighs along with an ache that she did not understand. Grabbing the cloth to clean herself, she rubbed carefully and a wealth of feeling nearly had her swooning. Anne felt more irritable and tired than she had before. Anne quickly cleaned and readied herself for the day. All she knew was that these were feelings that she had never experienced before. And that it all started, and she much likely believed ended, with Ian.

  Chapter 10

  “Anne, dear one, is anything amiss?” Lady Genevieve eyed her young guest, trying to figure out what had changed in the past few days.

  It was true that her injury from a fortnight before had been grievous and Lady Genevieve was certain that it had taken its toll. However, Anne was simply not the same young lady that she had been before Ian and the children arrived.

  Anne looked up from her private thoughts guiltily. “Oh, there is nothing of the sort. I promise you. I am fit as a fiddle.”

  Lady Genevieve could see the lines of worry between her young friend’s brows. “Are the twins making a nuisance of themselves?” she asked carefully.

  Anne shook her head quickly. “No. Henry and Brant have been a breath of fresh air. Not only do they help to keep me entertained, but they have taught me a wealth of knowledge about pirates and bootleggers and all kinds of boy things that I had previously been sheltered from.”

  Lady Gen laughed. “Those rascals. You know that you should only believe a small portion of what they tell you. Little boys are known to tell tall tales.”

  Anne smiled back at Lady Gen. “I am inclined to agree with you.”

  “Is it Ian?” Lady Genevieve continued with her original line of questioning. “I know that he can be a bit high on the instep. Honestly, the man isn’t nearly as stuffy as he pretends to be.”

  Anne flushed. “Ian is all that is amiable. I promise you.” At Lady Genevieve’s quick glance, Anne amended, “I mean I have gotten to know a little of his character. He is a good man, and a better father.”

  This was not what Lady Genevieve had anticipated. Most young girls were head-over-heels in love with Ian. Stanford was a rather handsome looking man, not a hint of the dandy about him. But that was only skin deep. It was gratifying to Lady Gen that Anne had chosen to look below the surface.

  “Perhaps you just need to spend more time alone with him?” Lady Gen mused. Pretending not to notice when Anne gaped at her. “Once you have had some time to exchange thoughts and ideas, I am confident that you will be fast friends.”

  Anne choked, “Why does everyone insist on the two of us being friends?”

  Lady Gen frowned. “Did you not want to be his friend?”

  “Oh no, of course I wish to. It’s just… Well… Oh, I am being a ninnyhammer. Please ignore me.”

  “If it isn’t the children, and it is not Stanford, what is troubling you, my dear. And do not tell me that you are not troubled, you have redone that same stitch of the past half an hour. I cannot tell if you are making a sheep or a horse, but I daresay you can stop adding stitches.”

  Anne looked down at her embroidery and noticed that she had indeed made a mull of her needlepoint. “It was to be a butterfly,” Anne’s lips twitched, “I told you that I am terrible at the finer things, Lady Genevieve.”

  The older woman laughed. “Nonsense! I get the best compliments on the pillows you made for the drawing room.”

  Anne made a face. “The trees look like wild animals, I am confident that they are conversation pieces, but I think you are doing it a bit too brown saying anyone would ever compliment them.”

  Lady Genevieve’s light laugh twinkled in the air. “There is a bit
of wildness to your work that I delight in.”

  Anne groaned. “I really wish that you would not keep those pillows out for company.”

  “But then with whom would I share them? Such works of art should not be hidden away.”

  Anne laughed, and it felt good. Perhaps she hadn’t been herself lately. “Works of art? Now that is doing it a bit too brown.”

  “What works of art are we discussing?” Henry bound into the room with Brant and Millie on his heels.

  Anne shook her head. “Not works of art. Lady Genevieve is speaking of the pillows I embroidered for the front parlor.”

  “The ones with the buffalo on the front?” Brant asked as Lady Genevieve’s eyes danced.

  “Those are not buffalo,” Henry rolled his eyes at his twin.

  “No, they aren’t,” Lady Genevieve grinned.

  “It’s cats dancing, right Anne? She loves dancing.” Millie added superiorly.

  Anne’s lips trembled with mirth. “They are trees.”

  Henry frowned. “Never say that! They don’t look like any trees I know.”

  “Are the trees dancing?” Millie asked, wrinkling her brow.

  “No, they weren’t meant to be, dearest,” Anne smiled widely. “And this, Lady Genevieve, is why they should not be out on public display.”

  “Are we discussing the pillows on the settee?” Ian asked as he entered with his usual flourish of strength and virility that had Anne’s face heating.

  “Yes, indeed we were,” her voice trembled a bit before she swallowed and pasted a smile on her lips. “There seems to be a debate on what is actually embroidered upon them.”

  Stanford’s usual firm mouth twitched in amusement. “I see. And are you the artist behind the pillows in question?”

  Anne’s flush deepened. “Yes, although I do feel that the term artist might be stretching things a bit.”

  His lips widened. “Is it so exceedingly difficult to decipher? I myself, am quite partial to the pillows. They remind me of the trees that grow near my country home in Sussex.”

  Lady Genevieve’s jaw dropped in astonishment, causing Anne to giggle in delight. “Ha! You are shocked that Stanford actually knew what I had sewn. Admit it, Lady Genevieve! The pillows are a source of amusement. And that is why you keep them.”

  Lady Genevieve laughed along with her. “I shall never admit to such a thing! I can only say that obviously, Ian Stanford is of superior intellect. That is why he knew right away about the trees.”

  Ian had taken a seat near Anne and motioned for the twins and Millie to take a seat. “There is something that I wanted to discuss with everyone. The festival is approaching next week, I am planning on making a party for all of us if that is agreeable. I have even procured tickets to the Christmas Eve ball for Lady Gen, Anne, and myself.”

  Amelia’s little face lit up. “I do wish that I could attend.”

  “Soon enough for you, imp. Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. I am sure there will be enough festivities through the week to keep us all entertained.”

  “Capital!” Millie jumped up and ran to embrace her father. The twins piled on soon after. Ian laughed as he tried to disentangle himself from the children.

  “Henry and Brant, have you taken Amelia to see the new barn cat that Cook brought home?” Lady Genevieve asked.

  Millie looked from her father to Lady Gen. “May we please go see it? We won’t get in Cook’s way, I promise you.”

  It wasn’t lost on Anne that Ian glanced at her as if to get her opinion before he sent the children off. It pleased her more than she could have known. “Please do not make trouble for Cook, darling. But if she is amenable, I think it is a grand idea.”

  Millie launched herself into Anne’s arms, who froze for a moment before returning the child’s embrace. “Thank you for making this the best Christmas ever, Anne.”

  Millie didn’t wait for a response. One moment she was in Anne’s arms and the next she was racing to see the new calico cat with Henry and Brant running alongside her.

  “They are wild,” Lady Gen said wistfully. “What I wouldn’t give to have that energy back again. However, it would seem that it’s wasted on the youth. Please excuse me, I have some things I need to go over with the new housekeeper.”

  Anne’s head snapped up. “New housekeeper? What happened to Mrs. Fitzgerald?”

  Lady Gen gave Anne a hard look. “It came to my attention that she wasn’t quite up to snuff.”

  Then without another word, Lady Gen left the room.

  Anne glanced up sharply at Ian. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

  Ian shook his head. “Not the slightest. But trust Lady Gen to always know what’s happening behind the scenes. The woman has her finger on the pulse of this household.”

  Anne thought about the cruel things that Mrs. Fitzgerald had said about Millie. She certainly wasn’t sad that Lady Gen sacked the woman. If anything, she was relieved. The more she had gotten to know Ian and his daughter, the more that Anne had come to care for them. If she wasn’t careful, she would soon find herself with a broken heart.

  Chapter 11

  It was the following morning when a ragged street urchin delivered a letter for Miss Amelia Stanford.

  Millie, having never received correspondence of any kind, became quite pale when the silver platter was extended to her by the butler during breakfast. Ian was quick to snatch the letter from the tray; without any preamble he broke the seal and began to read.

  From his grave expression, the other occupants at the table could garner that this wasn’t a friendly missive.

  With a growl, Ian crumpled the letter and swiftly turned on the butler asking, “Who brought this letter?”

  The old butler described the child, but with the soot and grime, it honestly could have been anybody.

  “Ian, what’s the meaning of this?” Lady Gen demanded once the servants had been dismissed.

  Ian glanced at his daughter, who was looking at him with an expression of confidence that he could almost believe if it wasn’t for the fear lurking in her eyes.

  “It was nothing,” Ian said curtly. “Only an individual trying to stir up trouble. I am going to speak with the local magistrate to have a few men watch over the property. While I don’t think there is any danger, I do feel it wise to be careful.”

  Anne bit her lip. “Why was the letter addressed to Millie?”

  Ian shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Millie frowned. “I bet it was the old housekeeper.”

  Anne’s eyes widened, “Mrs. Fitzgerald? But why would she… Did she say something to you?”

  Ian turned to his daughter. “What happened with Mrs. Fitzgerald?”

  Millie’s cheeks heated. “I didn’t mean to listen in, honestly. It’s only that when we first came to stay, I heard Anne talking to the housekeeper. Mrs. Fitzgerald said some things.”

  “What things?” Ian asked through clenched teeth.

  Anne let out a little sound of horror. “You heard all of that?”

  Ian’s angry gaze swung round to Anne. “If there was a problem concerning my daughter, I should have been alerted right away.”

  “No, Papa, it’s not like that. Anne defended me,” Millie insisted. “She put the woman in her place.”

  Ian had turned back to face Millie. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I can’t run and tell tales every time someone calls me a mean name. Papa, I'm not a child anymore. Besides, Anne took care of it.”

  “I do apologize,” Anne said gently. “I should have reported the incident to you.”

  “Damn right you should have,” Ian said sharply. Then he turned to Lady Gen, “Were you aware of this?”

  Lady Gen’s face said it all. “I fired her immediately. There is no room for such bigotry and hatred in my household.”

  Ian rubbed a hand over his face as if scrubbing it. “And do you feel that this woman would be spiteful enough to try and stir up trouble?”
<
br />   Lady Gen fluttered her hand a little in distress. “I don’t know.”

  “She was turned out in the middle of winter without character,” Anne replied. “Despite the fact that it was well deserved, if the individual in question doesn’t agree, they could want some form of retaliation.”

  “Where is Mrs. Fitzgerald from?” Ian asked.

  Lady Gen frowned. “I hired her from an agency in town. I’m sure they would know how to reach her.”

  Ian pushed his chair back and stood. “Very well. It would appear that I have an appointment with the magistrate and this agency.”

  “Can I come along?” Anne surprised herself by asking.

  Lady Gen beamed at Anne. “What an excellent idea. Two heads are always better than one.”

  Ian looked as if he wanted to refuse. Anne tried not to let that hurt her feelings. Perhaps he was still upset with her for not telling him about Lady Fitzgerald. It had been a judgement call that she had thought was right at the time. Surely, he wouldn’t be holding that against her.

  “Very well,” Ian said at last. “I am afraid that the festival is out of the question today, Millie. Hopefully, we can wrap things up and attend tomorrow.”

  Millie nodded solemnly. “I completely understand. I only hope that we can get to the bottom of this quickly. If I might be excused? I will run along and tell the twins of our change in plans.”

  “While Millie is doing that, I will get my cloak,” Anne said briskly, rising with Millie.

  As they walked out of the breakfast room, Millie grabbed Anne’s arm and pulled her aside.

  “Don’t blame yourself for not telling Papa. You didn’t know us then and you still defended me. I won’t ever forget the kindness you showed me, Anne.”

  Anne’s troubled eyes met the younger girls and she gave her hand a squeeze. “I can’t imagine the hatred that you have faced in your young life. I don’t care what people say, words hurt, even if you try and pretend that they don’t. I want you to always remember something for me.”